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I leap away on instinct, evading both his hands and Anton’s as he tries to grab me from behind. Both of them whip around to face me again, looking slightly surprised. Crap. I need to slow my reflexes.
“Please,” I repeat while edging backwards. “Don’t—”
Mikhail swings at me.
This time, I force myself to remain in place and instead yank up an arm to block the strike. His fist connects with my forearm, sending a pulse of pain through it. Damn, he’s strong.
From my left, Anton draws back for a punch as well. I see it coming but let it go through anyway.
I let out a huff as it hits me in the side of the ribs. He’s not as strong as his brother, but still a bloody inconvenience.
While I stagger sideways from Anton’s punch, Mikhail slams his fist into my jaw. My head snaps to the side.
Oh come on, not the face. That’s just mean.
Since it’s better to get this beating over with quickly, I let Anton’s kick to my knee go through. My leg buckles and I crash down on the ground on one knee. Then I block Mikhail’s boot to my chest just enough to make sure that he won’t bruise any of my ribs. The force of it still sends me toppling backwards.
My back hits the ground, and I let out an audible huff to make it more convincing.
“Please,” I beg, very convincingly, as I crawl backwards into an empty parking space between two cars.
The Petrov brothers follow, towering over me.
Then Mikhail reaches behind his back and withdraws something.
Steel glints in the afternoon sunlight.
Coldness spreads through my veins as my gaze lands on the knife in his hand.
Fuck. A knife changes things. I can’t let myself get seriously hurt. While continuing to crawl backwards, I flick my gaze from left to right. But because I’m on the ground, all I can see are the two cars beside me.
Can I get away with using a little bit more skill without drawing attention? Just enough to make sure that the bastard doesn’t cut me too badly with that damn knife of his.
Before I can make a decision, Mikhail swipes at me. I roll sideways to protect my throat and chest, and the knife slices across my shoulder blade instead. A short burst of pain sears through my skin, but it’s very mild so it can’t have been more than a scratch.
Mikhail lets out a snarl of frustration above me, and then his boot slams into my chest, flipping me over on my back again. Flashing down, he grabs me by the collar of my shirt and yanks my face closer to his. The knife glints in his other hand.
“This is going to hurt,” he promises. “So I would suggest you—”
One second, he’s spitting threats in my face. The next, he’s hauled backwards and thrown several feet back. Anton whirls towards his brother, but before he can so much as open his mouth, Jace comes leaping over the hood of the car to my left and slams into him. Both of them go crashing into the car on the other side.
I snap my gaze back to Mikhail, and find Rico standing above him looking like the devil himself.
“Don’t touch her,” he growls.
Mikhail leaps to his feet right as Kaden appears from behind the car on his right. The blond Russian grips his weapon hard. Sunlight glints in the knife that Kaden is twirling in his own hand.
Then violence erupts around me.
I push myself up into a sitting position but remain seated on the rough asphalt, out of shock rather than any overwhelming pain, as I watch Rico, Kaden, and Jace fight the two Petrov brothers.
And what a fight it is. They’re good. All three of them are incredibly skilled, moving with the lethal grace of born predators. In the back of my mind, I catalogue their fighting styles in case I need to fight them myself at one point.
But most of my brain capacity is taken up by trying to figure out what the hell they’re doing here. How did they know where I was? And most importantly, why did they intervene?
If Rico is in any way uncertain of whether I am who I say I am, wouldn’t it be in his best interest to just watch the fight? To see how I react. How well I fight. And then confront me about it later. Why would he intervene? It makes no sense.
Air explodes from Anton’s lungs as Jace slams his boot into his stomach. He doubles over, which gives Rico a clear shot. Driving his elbow into the back of Anton’s neck, he sends the Russian collapsing to the ground.
